


Kisses and Stitches

by IsaacTheGreat69



Series: Cuts and Kisses [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, M/M, Multi, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-14
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-08-15 02:28:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8038639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsaacTheGreat69/pseuds/IsaacTheGreat69
Summary: A continuation on Cuts and Kisses, exploring their daily lives and their quadrants.





	1. He Fucked Up

**Author's Note:**

> I'm aware that I've switched POV to second person for this continuaton, sorry. It's just easier to write like this.

Your name is Dave Strider, and you think you fucked up.

It started as a normal day. You and John were just getting off at Alternia’s Cove, sharing stories about shitty customers, and John seemed to be getting pretty upset about this guy he was telling you about.

“I mean, come on, how fucking rude did he have to be? It’s not like I actually _know_ the city inside and out just because I work at a fucking coffee shop. I’m a goddamn person too, why do people have to be so shitty?”

You couldn’t help but smile as you thought how much Karkat’s been rubbing off on John. When you spared him a glance from behind the wheel to see him visibly upset, your smile instantly disappeared, and you’re glad you can see the house just down the street.

As you pulled up in the driveway and the both of you exited the vehicle, you walked around to his side and pulled him in a hug.

“Hey, hey. Dude. It’s okay; some people are just assholes like that. You matter; you’re just as valuable as anyone else, and fuck them if they think any differently.” You pulled away to see tears start to spill over, and you frowned.

“Then why am I feeling like a piece of shit? Why can’t I believe you when you say I matter? I thought I was over this depression shit but it keeps popping up and I feel so goddamn pathetic!”

Your frown deepened, and you moved your hands to cup his face. “John. You mean so much it’s not even fucking describable. Seeing you so upset and hearing how you see yourself hurts me so much, and I wish I could do something to make you believe me when I say that to me, and Karkat, and all of our other friends, you mean the fucking world.”

John opened his mouth to say something, but before he could get anything out, you fucked up.

You kissed your best friend.

You didn’t mean it romantically; you’ve completely accepted that Karkat and John are happy together and you don’t mind. You just… Wanted to make him smile. You weren’t lying when you said those things about his sadness physically hurting you. When he talks down on himself like that, you feel like there’s a black hole in your stomach, and you want nothing more than to give him the fucking world and make him happy again.

You just bulldozed right the fuck over any right you had as a friend to be able to comfort him. You took a step back and held your hands up, palms out at him.

“Whoa okay holy shit I did _not_ mean to do that Egs and I am so sorry. Well, I did mean to, but I didn’t mean anything romantic by it. It’s just that you were so upset and shit and I was thinking ‘holy shit rainy cloud on my sunny day, not cool’ but what I did was so uncalled for. Go ahead and fuckin hit me man, I so deserve it. I wish you would say somethin, storm into the house, hit me, I don’t care, just. _Please_ don’t look at me like that.”

John had his hands over his mouth in a way that would normally make you laugh, but right now you were just anxious of what they were covering. John walked into the house, barely touching you as he brushed by, and by the time you got in the house, he was in his room.

You’re ashamed to say you were too scared to go see him.

Now you sit on the couch, waiting anxiously – which is a word you’re using _way too much_ – for Karkat to get home so you can ask him what to do.

As you lament your current situation, you hear the door open and look over to see Karkat closing and locking the door behind him. He takes one look at your shaded face and sits on the couch next to you. You must look as bad as you feel. Karkat levels you with a stare, face carefully blank.

“Spill.”

You tell him what happened, what you’ve been turning over in your head since you sat down, and he sighs.

“Strider, can you do one thing for me? Can you tell me _why_ you did what you did?”

You pause. Thinking back on it, you have no idea why you kissed John. You just… _had_ to do something. To touch him, calm him, hold him, make him better. It was a physical _pull_ in your chest, it pushed you to act, to at least try and help in some way. You look at Karkat helplessly and shrug. He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Dave. Have you ever considered you might be pale for John?” You fell back against the back of the couch. Huh. Pale for John? Who knew?

It took a while for you to come to grips with quadrants, let alone become involved in one with Karkat and be okay with him being in another one with John. You’re actually kind of surprised he’s acting so calm, now that you think about it. Wasn’t he supposed to be in eternal steamy hate with you or something?

“Yeah right,” you say out loud. Karkat growls at you. Ah, there it is. “Quit being such an asshole and just come to grips with your fucking feelings, assmunch.” You smirk. “What’re you gonna do about it, _kitten?_ ” His growling pitches up, becomes more intense, then suddenly cuts out, and he sighs again, relaxing into the couch.

“No, okay. We should be focusing on your fucking problems, not getting into concupiscent squabbles. Just… Tell me how you feel about John.”

You huff and settle back again. How do you feel about John? “He’s….” You try again. “When he’s happy, I want to share in his happiness, I love his smile. And… When he’s sad… It’s like something just dug a fucking trench in my chest.” Karkat nods, as if agreeing and you continue with confidence. “All I want to do is make sure he’s always smiling. I _need_ him to be okay. He means the fucking world to me, and it physically hurts when he’s not shitting sunshine and rainbows. I want to protect him from all the bad shit and I just…. Feel so fucking _much_ that sometimes it’s hard to breathe…”

You glance over at Karkat, expecting an angry troll. You _had_ just confessed that you had _some sort_ of feelings for his matesprit, after all. Instead, you see Karkat giving you a smug look, which you match with a confused one. He holds his expression for a minute before letting out an explosive sigh.

“Dave. Those are pale feelings. You’re pale for John, dumbass.” You stare at him for a moment before what he says registers in your mind and you’re up on your feet pacing the living room.

“No. No. We don’t. I don’t. Quadrants aren’t…. I don’t _do that_.” Karkat is watching you, unamused.

“Well, shitsponge, I’d really hate to break it to you ~~not really~~ , but _we’re_ in a quadrant. Or did your infantile think pan manage to forget that fact?”

You decide to ignore him in favor of freaking out internally. You can’t be, what, in _pity_ for John, can you? That’s not possible. That’s not how humans work. Sure, you get the, uh, concupiscent quadrants because it’s easy to find someone hot and still want to beat the shit out of them, and matespritship is almost laughably close to “human romance”. But the whole…. Pity thing? You ain’t about that life.

You’re pretty sure Karkat is saying something, but you already decided you were going to ignore him. Unfortunately, that becomes kind of hard to do when he disrupts your pacing by standing right in front of you. He’s got that face he makes when he’s growling at you like a rabid dog, and usually you’d find it hilarious, but right now it just pisses you off. So, naturally, you do the sane thing and tackle him onto the couch, crushing your mouths together.

The feelings that had started to bubble since the beginning of your conversation come to a head during your heated kiss. Karkat pushes his tongue into your mouth and you pin his wrists above his head in retaliation. Karkat flexes his claws in your grip as his tongue thrashes around harshly against the roof of your mouth. Your tongue pokes at his, teasing him even now, and he bucks against you. His body shifts with the movement, and now you’re sitting between his spread legs on the couch, your bodies pushing against one another.

He flexes again and you use the movement to grind down on him, groaning into his mouth. Karkat grunts through his nose and arches up into you, and you smirk into the kiss. Karkat grinds up into you in an act of rebellion, and this leads to the two of you grinding heavily into each other as your tongues trade jabs. You pull your mouth away from his to get a better control on your breathing, still rocking against him as you move down to suck just under his jaw. Karkat’s breath audibly stalls and you bite down on his neck, making him moan lowly.

You trail kisses and bites down his neck, drinking in the sounds he’s making. You let go of his wrists in favor of trailing your hands under his shirt, up his smooth chest. His chest starts to vibrate, and in a distant corner of your mind you realize he’s purring. His newly-freed hands rake down your back, over your shirt, leaving just enough sensation for you to want more.

You sit up enough that your chests aren’t touching, and you quickly discard both of your shirts. Once they’re both in some random corner of the living room, you resume your previous position over Karkat and lick up from where his bellybutton would be to his clavicle. Karkat gasps what sounds like your name, and a shot of arousal courses through you. With your shirts off, you can feel his claws scraping down your back, and the fire they leave behind only makes you want him more.

You bite the juncture between shoulder and neck, raking your dull nails along his sides, and Karkat arches into the touch. You can feel his bulge moving freely through his pants with how you’re pressed against him, and fuck, you don’t care if it means you’re his bitch, you want that in your ass so bad.

“Karkat… Karkat. Asshole stop for a minute...” Your voice is airy as he finally stops grinding up on you and he shoots you a glare. “The fuck do you want to stop for?” You let your gaze wonder over his face. “Fuck me. Please, fuck me Karkat.” Karkat’s face, which was already tinged with red, is now bright with blush, his eyes half-lidded and dark.

Karkat grabs your shoulders, turning the both of you over so he’s the one straddling you, and he grabs the hem of your pants and boxers, pulling them down to your ankles. While you try to kick them off, sending them flying across the room, he’s pulling off his own, and you take a moment to stare at his crotch. The first time the two of you fucked, his tenta-dick thing he has going on freaked you out, but now you know what it can do, and now all you think when you see them is how fucking hot it is and how much you want him to fuck you into the floor.

Karkat leans down, biting your lip before stealing a kiss from you, his tongue swiping at the drop of blood swelling over the cut. You groan, winding your arms around his chest and pulling him closer to you. As the two of you fight each other with pleasure,his bulge winds around your already dripping erection. The feeling of the smooth member rubbing over your own has your back arching, your mouth open in a look of ecstasy. Karkat moves down to your neck, licking and sucking his way down to your clavicle, where he bites down just enough to not draw blood.

Your breaths come in heavy pants; your skin flushed a deep red as you fight to control yourself. Karkat continues to inch down your body, licking and sucking one nipple as he rolls and pinches the other between two fingers, switching when both are pert. The cold air on your damp skin makes you gasp, and his mouth on your other nipple makes you whine loudly, arching to push your chest closer to his mouth, as if being closer to him will increase your pleasure. When he remains firmly attached to your chest, you let out something like a growl and scratch his scalp, brushing harshly against a horn. Karkat bites the skin dangerously close to where he’d just been sucking in retaliation, and you buck against him, as if reminding him what he was supposed to be doing.

Karkat drags his tongue down your abdomen, giving the occasional nip at a patch of skin as he goes. At this point, his bulge has released your dick to writhe against the lower part of Karkat’s abdomen. As Karkat nipped at your hips, making your breath hitch, you thread a hand around his bulge, letting it wrap around your fingers and through the spaces between them. Karkat moans from his place at your hip bone as his bulge pumps your fingers or pushes and pulls between them.

Finally, blessedly, Karkat starts to dip between your legs, and just when you think he’s going to stop at your balls, he travels lower and licks at your entrance teasingly. Your heart jumps in your chest and a guttural moan slips from your mouth as he begins to lick at your inner walls, stroking the sensitive skin with his almost sandpaper-like tongue. Not even a minute goes by and you’re trying desperately to remain as calm as possible, your free hand scraping at the edge of the couch cushion, the other clenching and unclenching almost spasmodically around Karkat’s bulge.

Just when you think the sensations are too much, Karkat sits up, settling back into his original spot between your legs. As his bulge begins to move, you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him as close to you as possible.

"Oh fuck... Karkat. Fuck me.... Please...."

You open your eyes, not quite remembering when you closed them, to see Karkat’s pupils blown wide with arousal and a deep blush covering his face.You beg him to keep going, each press against your walls has you gripping tightly to his shoulders, each brush against the sensitive skin has you moaning Karkat’s name.

Fully inside you, Karkat begins to writhe around inside you, and your mouth stretches into a perfect ‘O’ as he brushes that spot inside of you. He begins to press and push at it in earnest, and you quickly become an incoherent mess, legs tightening around him and nails raking down his back. His claws scratch at your chest, your sides, your arms and shoulders and he’s babbling, telling you how perfect you feel, how much of a slut you are, how you’re his bitch, and you respond in kind.

“Yes… Yes… Oh God… Feels so good. You fill me so good…. I’m your bitch. I’m all yours…”

Heat builds in your gut, spreading through you until all you can think, all you can feel, is where Karkat is touching you, marking you, fucking you into the couch. You moan loudly, thrusting against Karkat, trying to get more, harder, faster. Karkat gets the message and soon he’s thrashing inside of you, pounding that spot, and you see stars. Karkat kisses you roughly and you scream into his mouth, body arching off the couch as you come on your chest.

Karkat remains inside of you, and you can feel how close he is, bulge thrashing manically inside of you. You reach a hand between the two of you, and two of your fingers find his nook. He moans and grinds against you as you finger him, spreading him and thrusting your fingers in him, practically fucking him on your hand. Karkat begins to moan in earnest, his moans growing louder and his pitch rising as he gets closer to orgasm. He comes inside of you and on your hand with a loud cry of your name before he begins to relax, pulling out of you.

The two of you lay on the couch for a moment, catching your breath, and you’re the first one to get up. You grab a towel from the bathroom and throw it at his head, making him yell in indignation as you walk away laughing.

You spend an hour in the shower, thinking long after you’ve cleaned yourself how this didn’t help you with John at all.


	2. Quadrant 911

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave does some digging online and finds a Quadrant Support chat group that he visits occasionally. Unfortunately, despite their support and their reasoning, he still isn't too good with expressing himself.

Since your last (and only) talk with Karkat about moiraillegiance, you’ve decided to get any and all advice from strangers on the internet. Because you’re smart like that. You found a quadrant support and advice group, and the other members seem to be alright. Which reminds you, you haven’t checked in on anyone today.

Your name is Dave Strider, and you have problems balancing your quadrants. Hi, Dave.

 

 

 

 

Your hands clench in your lap. While legend was right that most marriages were for moirails, John would want to marry the person he actually _loves_ , in the human sense. It makes your chest hurt.

 

 

Your breath stops for a minute. How…

 

 

 

Oh. He’s spit-balling. Okay…

 

 

 

You lean back in your chair, kicking away from your desk and only getting a few inches away on the carpet. You waste a minute and thirty seconds (you checked) staring at the ceiling before you launch yourself up and across the room. Maybe you can find something to munch on while you wait for John or Karkat to get home.

You haven’t had a day off by yourself in ages, and it is so. Fucking. Boring. You’re starting to see why John wanted a job so bad, this shit just gets old, and you’ve only been off two days. You grab a bag of chips out of the cupboard and plop your ass down on the couch in front of the TV. You spend about half an hour mindlessly flipping through channels before you hear a car pull up the driveway. You lean over to reach the blinds and pull them aside, peaking at the driveway to see John’s car. Good, you can just get this out of the way before Karkat gets here and potentially starts another fight. Cough, cough, collar tug.

John walks in, all smiles as he spots you on the couch and sits next to you.

“Hey Dave! What’re we watching?” You look at the TV and see….. Toddlers in Tiaras. Jesus fucking christ.

“I was just, yanno, flippin through shit when you walked in. Made me stop on this travesty. I knew you were trouble when you walked in.” John does that thing where he laughs and a snort comes out, and you smirk. Fuck yeah, you got him.

“Oh man Dave, you’re so great. Best bro I could ask for.” Aaaaaaand there goes your confidence. You try not to let it show.

“Hell yeah Egbutt, I am the greatest bro you are _ever_ gonna get!” Cue sassy snapping for ironic affect.

Karkat walks in ten minutes later to you trying to calm down your best bro, who is still laughing his ass off. If looks could kill, you’d have been resurrected just to be killed a second time by the withered look he’s giving you. John looks up, noticing Karkat as he wipes tears out of his eyes, and he gets up, moving to hug Karkat, still laughing somewhat.

Karkat is unamused. “Anyways, dinner will be ready in an hour.” You nod and he disappears into the kitchen, followed by John.

You venture back to your room and open up the chat room site from earlier.

 

 

 

You spin idly in your chair, letting your mind wonder. Karkat and John are Matesprits. Karkat and you are Kismesises…. Kismeses? And you want to be Moirails with John. Wait…. Is there some kind of…. Cross-quadranting going on??? Maybe you can just… Fuck yeah, crayons. Okay.

 

 

Sounds ‘bout right.

You gaze ironically at the shitty masterpiece you just made. It is so shitty. So, so shitty.

So shitty, in fact, that you are too busy deciding how shitty it is that you don’t hear Karkat walk up behind you, and you don’t notice him until he grabs the paper out of your hands. He just. Stares. Right at you.

“Really, Strider?”

You shrug. “Okay, so maybe the dicks weren’t necessary.” He raises an eyebrow at you and just shakes his head.

“I don’t even – look, I just came in here to say dinner’s ready. Do whatever the fuck you want, but unless you’re ready to confess to John, you should probably guard your shit better.” With that, he walks out of your room, leaving the paper to flutter to the floor where he stood.

You bend down slowly and pick it up, studying it for a moment. Without really thinking, you find yourself touching the shitty pink diamond, and you can’t help but wonder if you’ll _ever_ be ready to tell John.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got the quadrant support group idea from my Transgender support group, and all the names in the chat were just bs I thought up last minute, so if they bear any resemblance to an actual person, it is purely coincidence.


	3. Don't Leave Your JPeg Shit on the Table

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave keeps chickening out with his confession, but he doesn't have to worry about that for very long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahahahaha im an ass  
> I think I'm gonna do tri-chapter stories on the three relationships in this series  
> they're all gonna be in this fic though

“- So then he started laughing his ass off, right, and this guy, you would not believe it. His laugh was just so damn funny! Not even five minutes later we’re both on the ground practically crying from how hard we’re laughing, it was great. Anyways, that’s why I was covered in ketchup.”

You nod and ‘mhm’, not really paying attention. You and John are sitting on the couch, you on your laptop and he recounting the events of the past week.

“Dave?”

It’s been two weeks since you tried to say something to him about how you feel. Two weeks of chickening out and planning and moping, and nothing has changed.

“Dave! Are you even listening?”

You look up from your screen and are confronted with a visibly annoyed John. Whoops, your bad.

“To be honest bro, not at all, sorry.”

John huffs and turns to face the TV. “What’s up with you lately, you’re always so distracted.” You just shrug and go back to your computer. Truth be told, you weren’t even doing anything important, just fucking around on Tumblr. You hear John sigh and turn to look at him. He’s actually kind of mad, shit.

You set your computer on the couch arm and turn to face him. “Look dude, I really am sorry. I’ve just had a lot on my mind.” John looks over at you, concern melting through anger. “Like what?”

You grimace. You can’t exactly say _‘Oh you know, just trying to get my pale homo on with you, but I keep chickening out like a pussy and you have no idea how I feel and it’s a prime situation to find myself in.’_

Well, you _could_ , but you won’t.

Because you’re a pussy.

“I just have a ‘pale crush’ on this person, and I keep chickening out, I dunno man, nothing worth writing home about.” John’s smile drops some when you mention a pale crush, and your heart hurts. Just as quick as it happened, his smile is back in full force, and you can’t help but wonder if you imagined it.

“Oh, really? Who is it? Do I know them?” You sigh. “Yeah, you know him pretty well actually.” John makes that perfect ‘o’ face, hands flying to his cheeks. “It’s a ‘him’? Oh my gosh Dave!” You shrug. “Well yeah, why is that such a surprise? I’m in a quadrant with Karkat, and so are you. Being gay ain’t exactly a novel concept bro.” John huffs. “Well yeah but I guess I thought you’d be moirails with like… Aradia or Jane or… Someone who was a girl? I don’t know, it’s stupid.”

You nod. “Yeah, that’s pretty stupid.” John glares at you, but there’s no fire behind it. “Dude, I’m gayer than San Francisco on Pride Day. Wave that flag, bitch.” John laughs, and you smirk. “Whatever dude, you just seemed to really… click with them. Sorry for assuming or whatever hehehe.” You roll your eyes, grabbing your laptop again.

“Yeah, whatever. Point is I’ve been pussying out on this shit and I really need to just get a fucking move on, you feel?”

John nods, and the two of you go back to your respective activities. Two hours later, Karkat comes home to find the two of you in the exact same spots, not having said a word. He takes one look at you and scoffs, and all you can really think is _same._

 

-\\_( ‘ v ‘ )_/-

 

You leaned against the counter, bored out of your mind. John had the day off of work, unlike you, so you had no one to talk to. Yeah, Gamzee and Tavros were working, but more often than not a chat with them turned into a rap battle of massively pathetic proportions, and you didn’t feel like roasting them on a spit today. One glance around the café told you how pointless it was to come in today, and you found it a little weird. Every day since you’ve been here has been at least somewhat busy, but the place almost looks deserted today.

You shrug, looking at the clock. Fifteen more minutes and you were off, thank god. A group of high schoolers wandered in and you took their orders, not bothering to put on a smile. Fuck teenagers, you were tired, and hungry. When the last one takes their drink and the group absconds out the front door, you take another look at the clock. You don’t think Feferi will care if you clock out five minutes early.

 

-\\_ ( ‘ v ‘ )_/-

 

It only occurs to you when you get home that you left your jpeg shit on the table.

God dammit.

Next to your shitty rendition of your friends’ quadrants, you find a note from John.

You can’t help the smile breaking over your face.


	4. Love to Hate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A typical day in the kismestitude between Karkat and Dave

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you love to hate Dave Strider.

All things considered, your kismestitude with Strider is leagues healthier than the vacillating one you had with Terezi, or the one-sided one you had with John. Dave says he doesn’t really get quadrants, but the way the two of you draw out the best and worst in each other is absolutely perfect. Blackrom Blockbuster perfect.

Since John found out, the two of you don’t need to sneak about either. That being said, you don’t just hate fuck in front of John. It’s just more…. Reassuring that he knows and is okay with it. When John’s out and one of you is bored, you’ll go to the other’s room and antagonize each other to your breaking points. People in a kismestitude don’t tend to go on dates, because, while you _are_ in a relationship, if you were to go out in public with your kismesis, you’re pretty sure the two of you would end up doing some X-rated shit in a very G-rated place.

The past few weeks, Strider was pandering over his pale feelings for John, and it was the most annoying, excruciatingly drawn out confession you’d ever had the displeasure of experiencing. And you weren’t even a direct part of it. From what you gathered, he didn’t even fucking confess. He left his jpeg shit (how’d he even make it look like that with _crayons_?) on the table and John found it. Dave’s just lucky John accepted his botched confession.

Since then, not much has changed between the three of you, except John and Dave do more Moirail things, like official Feelings Jams, capital F J (because karks, you gotta capitalize that shit), and cheesy fucking pale dates and making diamonds with their fingers (which makes Dave blush like a fucking virgin, but he made both you and John promise to tell no one). It doesn’t take away from your time with either of them, but you have to admit that seeing Strider fill out another quadrant makes you fucking mad.

You’re torn from your reverie when the door shuts a little too loudly behind you, and you jump slightly, turning away from the TV to see who just came in. Of course it’s Dave. He gives you a two finger solute, which you return with a middle finger, and he smirks, heading back to his room. You refuse to fall for his game. You know exactly what he wants, what he expects. Right now he’s probably laughing to himself, sitting at his desk, waiting for you to storm in there shouting and gesticulating madly. You won’t fall for it, not today.

You won’t.

You fucking

God dammit.

You yank his door open, and it smacks against the wall with a crack. Dave swivels around in his chair, petting an invisible cat, and the sight makes you growl.

“Where the fuck do you get off thinking you can play me like this, you feculent sack of hoofbeast shit. I know what you’re up to, your fucking game that you’re playing, winding me up like a fucking toy just so you can watch me run around in some sick form of entertainment. Well I refuse. I refuse to be manipulated by a brainless halfwit, falling into concupiscent rituals that waste my time and you don’t deserve. So wipe that smug fucking grin off your face you amoeba, before I rip it off myself.”

Dave continued to sit there smirking, petting his imaginary cat as you caught your breath.

“If that was true, you wouldn’t be here, would you Karcrabby.”

And that, as they say, was the straw that broke the camel’s back. You launch yourself at him, claws out and teeth bared. Just as you dig your claws into his shoulders, he wraps a hand around your neck, keeping you just far enough that you can feel his breath against your lips, but you’re unable to reach his. Any attempt to press forward cut off your breathing as he leaned out of reach and tightened his grip. You snarl at him as he continues to smirk, his other hand coming up to rub a horn.

“What’s wrong, did kitty get de-clawed?”

Your hands wrap around the one holding you back, and you dig your claws into his wrist slightly as you yank it away. Dave hisses at the slight pain and you mash your lips against his, pressing your full weight into him as you straddle his lap. Dave rakes his hands through your hair, dragging his nails against your scalp. You deepen the kiss, pushing your tongue past his lips and taking his mouth.

Both of his hands rake up through your hair until they’re rubbing your horns, and you slide your hands up under his shirt, dragging your claws down his ribs with just enough force to make him bleed slightly. He moans into the kiss, arching into your touch, and you grind against him. The both of you moan, pressed up against each other, grinding desperately and gasping into each other’s mouths. Dave pushes you off him and you land on your ass, growling up at him.

He pulls you up by the collar of your sweater and tosses you onto his bed. By the time you get yourself upright, he’s straddling your hips and pushing you back against the bed with one hand on your chest, the other tangled in your sweater. He kisses you roughly, and you throw your fist at his face, sending his shades flying. Dave gives a surprised shout, and suddenly he’s biting into your neck, enough to draw blood, and you gasp, canting your hips. Dave grinds against you, making your breath stutter and your back arches.

The two of you set a rhythm, gasping and panting. Dave growls in your ear when you dig your claws into his back and it flips a switch within you. You try to flip the two of you so that you’re on top, but Dave grabs both of your wrists in his hand and presses his hips firmly against your own. You snap your jaw and snarl at him, and he grimaces down at you.

“Fuck no, not this time. This time you’re _my_ bitch, Vantas.”

Your eyes widen and you thrash, trying to escape his grip, but it only tightens. He kisses you, and you bite his lip, making him hiss and draw back just enough to lick the blood. He smirks at you and moves down to your neck, biting and sucking a mark into your skin, and you moan low in your throat. Your hands clench in his grip as he continues to move down, his free hand moving up your chest, dragging your sweater up with it. You curse him loudly, still attempting to free your hands so you can rip off his stupid face, which you tell him. His hand lingers on your grub scars, squeezing lightly, and you suck in a breath. Dave pulls away to look up at your face, smirking; your cheeks are flushed, your lips parted as you try to steady your breathing.

“Looks like I found your off switch. Or maybe your on switch?”

You glare down at him, pulling at his grip, and he chuckles.

“Shut the fuck up you used tissue, I’m going to kick your fucking ass.”

Dave just laughs again, massaging your grub scars roughly and biting at your clavicle. You gasp, arching into his touch. Dave’s hand moves to undo your pants, pulling them down to your knees as he continues to work his way down your chest. Eventually he has to let go of your wrists, and your hands card roughly through his hair as he sucks a hickey into the flesh of your stomach. His hands dip teasingly below the elastic of your boxers and you growl.

“Fucking get on with it already, before I kick you off me and deal with this myself.”

Dave rolls his eyes and bites your hip, drawing blood, and your hands fist in his hair, tugging at it when he decides to completely avoid your bulge, which has unsheathed and is making a red spot on your boxers. He bites the inside of your thigh, a breath away from your nook, and you keen, pulling on his hair. He moans against the skin, sending vibrations along your thigh and nook, and you swear you’re going to kill him. He finally decides to take pity on you, or maybe torture you more, you don’t know, because you can’t think, because Dave is mouthing at your nook through your boxers and you think you’re _definitely_ killing him later if he doesn’t just _fuck_ _you_ now.

“F-fuck, Dave-! God- please, just _fuck_ _me_!”

Dave smirks up at you, having already removed all his clothes as he hooks his fingers in your boxers and pulls them down with one smooth motion. Dave grips your bulge, letting it twist between his fingers, pushing and pulling, and he tightens his grip, giving more resistance and friction. You can feel your pride falling away as you babble incoherently, moaning and begging him to fuck you senseless.

“D-Dave…..”

He looks up from watching your bulge, arching an eyebrow.

“Oh God…. F-Fuck me. Please!”

Dave smirks and moves his hand, now lazily stroking your nook, and you let out a desperate sob.

“Oh, I think you’ll need to be a little more specific than that.” He says in a teasing tone.

You gasp, rocking against his hand, desperately seeking friction. “Dave!”

Dave outright leers at you. “Yes?”

You give a needy whine, throwing your pride out the window. You hate Dave, hate what he does to you, but you _need_ this.

“F-… Fuck me… Fuck me numb, fuck me into the bed. God Dave please!”

Dave removes his hand from your nook, and you think you’re going to go insane. You feel him press against you, lining up with your nook, and you let out a relieved sob. Dave thrusts into you, quick and hard, and you cry out, back arching off the bed, claws digging into the sheets. He gives you a moment to adjust before he’s setting a quick pace, hands squeezing your hips as he fucks you hard, fast, deep.

“There you go you little slut, all full to the brim with my dick. I bet it’s still not enough for you huh? A needy slut like you, you don't get off with just this, you want me to-"

He pauses, letting out a low moan before he continues.

 “You want me to bite and suck at every sensitive part of your body. I’ll squeeze whatever these things are so tight you won’t be able to think straight.”

He squeezes roughly at a set of grub scars, massaging them after, and you keen, pushing your chest into Dave’s hands.

“Oh, youre my little slut, and I know exactly how to break you down into nothing but sensation. Moan for me. Moan for me Karkat, let the neighborhood know what a fucking slut you are.”

You moan loudly, throwing your head back. Your mind fogs with lust and all you know is pleasure, all you feel is the parts where Dave touches you, squeezes you, pins you beneath him. Dave groans and picks up his pace.

“Heh, y-you’re close, huh? I can feel you getting tighter, closing around my dick, pulling me in further, wanting more of me when I’m already fucking you dry.”

You pant, rocking against him as he rams himself into you. You claw at his back, moaning his name.

“Such a needy whore, aren’t you. You’re a fucking pathetic needy whore, moaning my name for me like the slut you are.”

You practically scream as you come, your body seizing up, nook tightening and genetic material spilling everywhere, but you keep moving to meet his thrusts, gripping his shoulders tightly. Dave gives an amused huff, hands caressing your sides as he continues to fuck you into his mattress.

“Oh, Karkat, look at you. You’re covered in your own orgasm and you’re still begging me for more. What a good little slut you are.”

You moan Dave’s name, canting your hips roughly. Dave leans down, panting hotly in your ear.

“Who do you belong to, Karkat? Who owns you?”

He hits a spot inside of you and you see stars. Your back arches high off the bed and your claws dig into his shoulders, making him moan.

“Dave!” You gasp, and he chuckles breathlessly in your ear.

“Damn straight I do, and I’ll fuck you in a-any way I want, whenever I want. My own little slut. Perfect little whore.”

He bites the shell of your ear and you whimper.

 “Maybe I should do this to you in front of all your friends, huh? How do you think they would feel, seeing their great leader broken down to a blushing, begging, needy mess. You know what they’ll see? They’ll see you, begging to be fucked like the slut you are, begging to be used like my own personal bucket, you fucking loud-mouthed whore.”

You chant Dave’s name, your legs wrapped around him and your hands clenched above your head, leaning back and exposing your neck.   

“You’re mine, Karkat.” He gives one last hard thrust, biting your neck harshly as he comes inside you. You give a strangled cry as you come a second time, your nook clenching spasmodically around Dave’s dick as you cover the both of you in more genetic material.

Dave collapses next to you, the both of you trying to catch your breath. As the two of you come down, the pain starts to set in, and you grimace. You look over at Dave, who’s inspecting his own collection of bruises and cuts. He notices you looking at him and flips you off, which you happily, and angrily, return.

You get up with a hiss, walking across the hall to your room bare ass naked and not giving a fuck. You walk into your adjoined bathroom and wash yourself off, grimacing while you clean between your legs. You fucking hate Dave.


	5. Wine and Dine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apparently no one told Dave that Kismesis don't go on dates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Sorry for the late update, I'm such an asshole. Anyways, I'm always open to suggestions, either for this fic or something else. Feel free to message me! Also, don't forget to check out the facebook page Cuts And Kisses for updates on how the fic is going. Thanks for reading!

Apparently no one told Dave Strider that kismesis don’t go on dates. You walk through the front door later than you would have liked to find the light in the house dimmed and candles lit to create a romantic atmosphere. You didn’t see the other car outside, but Dave’s keys are in the keytray, so you assume John went out per Dave’s request. The table is set up with candles and placemats. Fucking placemats. Even the silverware is wrapped in shitty napkins like in some fancy restaurant. 

You don’t see Dave anywhere, so you wander through the house back to his room and open the door without knocking. Nothing. You check John’s room. Nothing. You scowl, the realization dawning on you that this piece of shit is sitting in your room doing fuck knows what. You open the door, the paper sign  _ clearly  _ having been ignored (fuck you very much Dave), and find the insufferable prick naked with a rose in his mouth, posing on your bed in that “paint me like one of your French girls” way. 

It takes you a comically long time to process what you’re seeing, but when you do you march up to his smug smirking face and demand what the fuck he thinks he’s doing. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing defiling my bed with your naked pink monkey ass.”

The asshole has the sack to continue smirking as he replies. 

“Seducing you.”  
  
“Go fuck yourself.”  
  
“If that’s what you’re into, babe.” He winks, and you can feel your face heating up as you slap him upside the head.   
  
“Get the fuck out of my room you brain-dead amoeba.”  
  
You can just barely make out his eyelashed fluttering behind his shades as he gets up and heads for your door. 

“So flattering. Get on your Sunday shoes sexy, I’m gonna wine and dine you.” And with that he’s gone. You growl, but change into something not as sweaty (it was hot today, and that bitch Vriska said the A/C was “”broken””). By the time you get back out to the living room, Dave’s dressed again and sitting at the table. You sit down, glaring at him across the table while he stares at you with his usual poker face. 

“Well? You said you were going to wine and dine me, where’s the food.” He makes a face as if to say ‘oh yeah, my bad’ and absconds to the kitchen. You roll your eyes, severely unimpressed, and he comes back out with two plates of steak, mashed potatoes, and green beans. He sets yours in front of you, then sits down with his, and just. Smirks. That dick. You angrily cut into your steak and pop the piece in your mouth. You have to stop yourself from groaning at the taste. You can’t let him win. You keep eating with a carefully placed scowl, and eventually Dave just sighs and starts eating too.

Dave sets down his knife and fork none too gently a few minutes later to look at you across the table. He just stares at you. For what feels like hours. Finally you give in and put down your own silverware in favor of glaring at him.

“What.”

“Your mouth looks a lot cuter wrapped around my dick.”  
  
You growl, standing up suddenly, the force of your movements pushing your chair back and almost toppling it over. 

“Fuck you Strider.”  
  
“That’s the idea, kitten.”

Your growling gets louder, and he laughs. He fucking  _ laughs.  _ What a dick. You stomp over to him, the meal completely forgotten, and shove him into the wall with both hands. His smirk turns into a sneer, and he takes a step towards you, flicking your nose. You snarl and fist your hands in his shirt, pulling him forward so your chests brush against each other. 

“Someone’s a little eager today.”  
  
“Says the neanderthal who talks about me sucking his dick at the fucking dinner table.”  
  
“You know you like it.”  


“You wish.”

He shuts you up by pressing forward and kissing you passionately. You can feel the heat and the want with every press of his lips, the way he doesn’t even ask or tease before his tongue is in your mouth. You take a few steps forward, pressing him into the wall, one of your hands sliding into his hair and tangling with his locks. His hands feel their way down your sides, around your waist, and settle on your ass, groping you and making you let out a quiet moan into the kiss. 

His hands slide down to the backs of your thighs and he hoists you up, letting you wrap your legs around his waist as his hands go back to your ass. Dave turns the two of you around, slamming you into the wall. You pull away with a gasp on your lips, and he attaches his mouth to your neck. You let out a shameless moan and tilt your head back when his sucking turns into biting. Your ankles hook behind him and your hands tighten their grip on his hair and shirt. He lets out a moan against your neck, the vibrations making your head a little fuzzy. 

You arch your back, your hips pressing into his, and he grinds back. You throw your head back, hitting it on the wall, letting out a moan. The two of you slowly pick up a rhythm, him grinding against you and you pressing your hips into the contact, the two of you moaning and red-faced. He continues to bite and suck on your neck, and one of his hands leaves your ass to massage your horn beds. You gasp and buck your hips, and Dave has to pull away to moan, biting your collar bone. 

“Oh fuck, Dave, fuck me. Please.” turns out to be the only incentive Dave needs to start pulling off your pants, getting them halfway down your thighs before he apparently decides that’s far enough and starts tugging on his own, kissing you roughly. Once both of your pants and boxers are down, he starts grinding against you again, the slight change in angle putting him right against your nook. You moan loudly, the pitch rising slightly, begging him to fuck you. 

He leans down slightly, his mouth right next to your ear. “Oh you’re such a fuckin slut, look at you. Begging me to fuck you and I’ve hardly touched you.” He reaches a hand between your legs and presses a finger inside of you, making you shiver. It’s not enough. “Fuck, Karkat, you’re already dripping. Such a needy bitch.” You whine in his ear, rolling your hips as much as you can into his hand. He presses a second finger in and starts to thrust them inside of you, scissoring them and spreading you open. You moan desperately, eyes rolling back and claws digging into Dave’s back. 

He hisses in pain, adding a third finger and starts to earnestly fuck you on his hand. “Damn, babe, you’re so fucking slutty. Gettin off on my fingers like a two dollar whore. Do you even want my dick? A needy slut like you will take anything they can get, huh. I could shove a fucking baseball bat in there and you’d fuck yourself senseless.” You bite your lip, your face flushed and eyes hooded. Your breath comes in pants and you rock your hips, desperate to get off. Dave moves his hands faster, slamming into that spot inside of you that makes your blood sing, and you arch your back off the wall, mouth open in a silent moan. Dave continues to slam into that spot, sending you closer and closer to the edge. 

“You gonna come for me baby? Gonna come on my fingers like the needy little whore you are?” You nod frantically, moaning loudly, close to climax. He slams his fingers into you a few more times and you come, squeezing around his fingers and rocking your hips as you ride out your orgasm. He gives you a moment to catch your breath before he starts rubbing his dick along your nook teasingly. You whine, both overstimulated and desperately turned on. 

“Tell me how much you want it.” He grinds against your nook and you keen, eyes squeezed shut and back arched. “Oh god please Dave fuck me.” He tsks under his breath and grinds slow and teasingly. “Not good enough Karks. Gotta show me how bad you want me to fuck you. How much you want me to slam my thick cock into your greedy little nook.” You gasp, grinding against him, head bowed low and resting on his shoulder as he mutters in your ear. 

“You want me to stretch you wide, fill you up with my cock, hit that spot inside of you that makes you forget everything but my name.” You whine and nod. “God yes please Dave please fuck me. Fill me up, fuck me senseless. Wreck my nook. Make me your bitch.” He chuckles under his breath, the sound vibrating through your skull. “You’ve always been my bitch Karkat.”

He presses into you slowly, teasingly. You bite your lip, trying your hardest not to move your hips in case he decides to pull out. He doesn’t pause to wait for you, just starts thrusting shallowly at first, then building up speed until he’s fucking you into the wall. You’re broken down into a panting, moaning mess, clinging to him as his fingers dig into your ass and his dick plows into you in just the right way, setting your nerves on fire. He continues to mutter dirty things into your ear in between moans about how much of a slut you are, how good you feel, how your his, he owns you; you can’t decide which drives you more crazy, the moans right in your ear or all the things he’s saying to you, about you, debasing you. 

Before you know it you’re close again, a pit of warmth growing low in your belly. Your moans get louder and rise in pitch, and you rock your hips harder, more desperately. You’re sure you’ve made Dave’s back bleed by now, but you know he doesn’t care, just as lost in the pleasure as you are. He comes inside of you, stifling his moan by biting your collar bone, and continues to slam into you as he rides out his orgasm. The feeling of being filled, and his bite, along with the roughness of his thrusts, sends you over the edge, and you come on your sweater and his thighs. 

The two of you stay like that, catching your breath, and you almost pull him back to you once you seperate and you feel cold. The two of you clean up, him sneaking a slap or pinch to your ass and you spitting insults at him or slapping him upside the head. 

John comes home twenty minutes later to find you and Dave eating a now cold dinner, disheveled and still flushed. He quickly absconds to his room and you worry that you upset him. 

This, however, is proven wrong when he joins the two of you on the couch for a movie and won’t stop wiggling his eyebrows at the two of you. You decide you hate Dave even more.

Which is what you tell him while you’re riding him with the moonlight draped across your back and his nails creating red crescents on your thighs. 


End file.
